


Regrets

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Episode: s04e14 Inauguration, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-19
Updated: 2003-02-19
Packaged: 2019-05-15 22:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14799587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: "I'm not good for people, especially people who care about me."





	Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Regrets**

**by:** J-Hy 

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category:** J/D, but not really, Post Ep, Inauguration Part I  
**Rating:** YTEEN  
**Disclaimer:** All I own is a rusty Chevy Blazer and a handful of Ben Folds CDs. All credit for creating the characters and storyline goes to Aaron Sorkin and co.  
**Summary:** "I’m not good for people, especially people who care about me."   
**Spoiler:** Definitely for "Inauguration Pt.1," and probably everything up to that to be safe.  
**Author's Note:** This is a mid- and post-ep for Manchester 1 and 2.  I so wanted to see more of their conversation in the limo! 

***This is not really a happy piece... Josh beating up on himself, Josh in denial, etc. And there’s no dialogue ... not sure how I feel about that ... 

It might sound crazy to an outside observer, but sometimes even I don’t realize how stupid I am.

Let’s just clarify for a second ... I’m not in love with Donna. I don’t have feelings for my assistant, because I’m a professional.

OK, I have feelings for her, but they aren’t those kinds of feelings ... you know, the kind that get one or both of us fired.

So why was I so unabashedly cruel to her about Reese? Because that’s the way I am. I don’t wake up in the morning with the intention of being an asshole ... at least, not to her ... but that’s invariably what happens. It’s a pattern I’ve repeated over and over for as long as I can remember. It’s one of the things that makes me very good at my job ... I don’t form attachments to many people because most people, after spending just a limited amount of time with me, can’t stand me.

It makes life easier, truly. I don’t have to worry about a young member of Congress mistaking me for a friend during the political wheeling and dealing that goes on. I don’t have to send out birthday cards or go to lunch with superficial acquaintances to maintain a friendship that only exists through said cards and lunches. I don’t have pictures of the nameless children begat by Ralph-and-Cindy or Melissa-and-Kyle floating around my office (like Donna does). I don’t have to cancel on dinners when something comes up at work, I don’t have anyone besides my mother to keep up with when I’m on the campaign trail. I don’t even have a pet. It’s refreshing really. My absolute lack of tact and total inability to care about the personal lives of others (with a very few exceptions) has kept me free to excel in my field and dedicate myself one-hundred percent to my work.

I just wish it didn’t hurt Donna.

I try not to hold on to regrets. It seems like such a girly thing to do, for one thing, and for another, well, my therapist says I have enough baggage (whatever that means) as is.

But the second I suggested to Donna that Reese might have requested transfer, I wished I could take it back.

I don’t like her dating him. I don’t like her dating. The reasons aren’t important, I just don’t like it. But I’d rather see her married to Dr. Freeride than see that look on her face ... the one that couldn’t be plainer if I slapped her.

It’s not the first time I’ve done that to her. In fact, there have probably been more times than I realize when I’ve spoken carelessly and cut her. But this time was worse. This time she wasn’t showing off a dress that would make any man have, well, impure thoughts. She wasn’t pestering me with inane trivia about falling space debris. She wasn’t imposing rules on my life as I was trying to regain control after being shot in the chest.

She came to me with a serious concern. She came to me as a friend and coworker she thought she could trust. She was frantic and she wanted answers or reassurances, or at least for me to give a damn.

I could have told her I’d look into it. I could have told her it was a devastating but natural effect of military life ... you go where you’re told when you’re told, even if it makes you unhappy and hurts those around you. I could have told her it was a sticky, dangerous area and that if Reese wouldn’t explain what was going on, there was probably a good reason.

But I didn’t.

Which is why it’s a good thing I’m not in love with my assistant. I’m not good for people, especially people who care about me. I’m good for work. I’m good for policy. I’m good for 3 a.m. strategy sessions and no-strings sex.

But I’m not good for Donna. I’ve known that for a long time now. I think she’s finally figured it out, too.


End file.
